Remix: Two Guys in Kilts
by Pluviophobian Night Rain
Summary: Three people are sent from our time into the past, dead and on a mission. They end up in Soul Society, meeting Toushirou rather harshly in the process. Why? The old, crazy one is something to consider. Naruto and Bleach Xover
1. Crack in the Wall

_**Two Guys in Kilts**_

-Chapter 1-

"Crack in the Wall"

_By_: **Pluviophobian Night Rain** (**PNR**)

This is the re-done _TGiK_ story because the other one I wrote was moving WAY to fast. I, Mellon Head, now part of PNR, got seasick from it. Meh.

* * *

Everyone always tells us to stay away from the O'Reilly boys. They're always spouting bad things about the family and such. "They're nothing but trouble," or, "They'll get you into a fine mess, they will." So if that's the story, then why am I going to live there from now until whenever? Why send a bad seed over to some full-grown trees?

Well, that I will never know, or understand. All I know is that I'm standing on the porch of the O'Reilly's mansion and am regretting every moment I back talked my parents. I even take back all the cusswords that I've spoken—to parent and pedestrian alike (tried to feel sorry for the teachers, but it wasn't in the cards). I just can't believe that I'm going to live at some crackpots' house for basically eternity.

My parents must be up to something really big again, like taking over the White House. Either that or they've finally gotten their hands on some marihuana . . .

The doorbell echoed throughout the entire gigantic house. The footsteps on the other side count down the remaining moments of my—slightly—sane life. I find myself holding my breath, but that only makes me breathe harder. The door opens slowly, like a Hitchcock film, where you just know the bad one's on the other side or somewhere within, just waiting. Waiting for the unsuspecting victim. Only, it's not a film, and I am _very_ aware of the danger. I feel like Ned Beaumont from the Danshiell Hammett book, _The Glass Key_.

"Hello, dearie! How about coming inside with all your bags?" asked a short and stout redheaded woman. She kept yanking on my hand, making me come inside. My wrist felt like it was on fire (on the brink of falling/snapping off) and for a while there, it was almost like I should scream something like, 'Lay your hands off my, lady! Can't you see my wrist doesn't bend that way?' or yell, 'Jack! Take the cab and save yourself!'

Actually by the way the woman's looking at me now, I suppose I just said the latter.

"What did you mean by that, dearie?" she asked, letting go of my hand while I silently prayed. Now, I'm not the type who usually goes to church—heck, I can't remember the last time I _prayed_—but, I don't see why the Big Man Upstairs can't give me a break every once in a while. Looks like He did, anyways. But, He shouldn't get used to it; He's a big man. He can take it.

Just then, I heard all these voices coming down the stairs, pounding down the circling steps. This made it echo eerily in the house, and for a second I actually believed that God had spared me an awful ending and was sending a herd of wild animals to come and mull me over. It turned out I had no such luck—probably because of my 'He can take it' crack—because the stampede turned out to be three little kids running down the stairs to, hopefully, kill me on the spot. Again, no such luck.

"Mammy!" they called her, screeching with laughter when the woman pulled out three lollypops from nowhere. I stared, feeling that God and I would have to have another little chat soon, when three others, way older than the smaller three, appeared from what I assumed to be the TV room.

The girl took one look at me and said to the woman, "Fa th' heel is she?"

The woman looked shocked at the girl and said, hands on her hips, "That's th' quinie 'at is stayin' haur until 'er parents say sae. Watch yer leid, tay, wee missy, ur they'll be some punishments aroond haur!"

"Whatever, mam," the girl said, staring inquisitively at me through _unbelievably_ dark eyes. It looked to me, honestly, like she hadn't ever put on makeup before and was trying out everything in black for the first time (in a dark room). Happened to me before my mother informed me that I was supposed to put it on my eyelashes—minus the room.

"If she's American, shooldnae we spick Béarla arobond 'er?" asked what looked like the oldest boy. He looked at me indifferently. I almost laughed. It sounded like they were actually speaking Scottish like the other sympathetic people in the real world said they would.

"Och aye."

Obviously, they spoke Irish here, too, because I've heard my grandma—ironically the O'Reilly kid's grandma's sister—say that we shouldn't have even started to speak 'Béarla,' let alone move from Ireland to America. Somehow, she hates Georgia, too.

"Um," I started, looking at all of them. "Hi." I felt like a sponge that was run over with a steam roller, only to be used again and again and again, until I finally stopped working altogether. Or fell apart.

"Hey," the other boy said, smiling. "We're not always like this," he reassured me (or tried to). All I could do was nod my head and utter some kind of sound of agreement. They were all purely crazy. Crack heads, just like everyone else had warned me.

"Oh, let me introduce myself, dearie! I'm Mrs. O'Reilly, but you may call me Bonnie," it was then that I realized how accented she was. She didn't seem Irish, so she must have been the Scottish one. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." And with that, she left, leading the little devil children away from me.

I tore my gaze away from their receding backs and saw that the girl was going up the stairs.

"Where do I go?" I asked, looking down to my bags and purse.

"Um, I'll take you to one of the guest rooms," said the younger of the two boys. I noticed that they looked almost identical, despite their hair color and size difference. Like the woman, the older one's hair was auburn. I was mad because I always had a lot of pride in being the 'only' one with auburn hair. Well, at least my eyes were green. His are kind of brown . . . I think they clash with his hair. Wait—can your eyes even clash with your hair? Brown eyes don't clash with black hair, and they do with clothing, so maybe not. His brother, the younger one, had red—and by red, I mean flaming (think _Harry Potter_)—hair and blue eyes, just like the girl. Looks like my grandma's younger pictures in boy form. Weird. Or not, considering I'm related to them.

"Have fun carrying the luggage," the older boy said as he waved us goodbye. How sweet.

The younger boy grunted not because my baggage was heavy—I don't have many clothing items because of my stinkin', grovelin', loathsome parents—but because the older boy was making fun of him.

"Um, sorry if I just screwed up your street-cred." I looked up the stairs. "That's a long way up."

"Ah, don't worry. Alan always thinks less of me and we're taking the elevator," the guy said, smiling at me.

I muttered an "Oh," feeling completely and utterly idiotic because I hadn't noticed the elevator the entire time I had been staring at it. But, that's ok because I hadn't told him that I didn't notice it, right? . . . Right? The elevator door closed and I was no longer staring at the rich, wooden floors of the entrance hall/house, but at the fluffy blue carpeting of the elevator. The walls matched, but not too badly because it was lighter.

"So, what's your name?" the boy asked.

I looked up in shock. "You're parents didn't tell you?" I asked, unable to mask my confusion.

"Well, they have been kind of busy with their jobs. Mam's a writer-slash-painter and daid's a journalist. It's amazing they can't speak the language well, but they can write it," he explained, laughing a little.

"Well, uhm, I'm Logan Rodal. My friend Else calls me Lyse, though. I don't know why. She's cracked. She really has, you know. On the last day of school . . . two days ago, right?" the boy nodded. I continued, "Well, she came up to me and said something along the lines of: 'What's up, Logan-sometimes-Lyse? Summer's a long time coming. My sister, Noel, thinks you head is shaped like a heart.' Now tell me that's not crazy."

The boy laughed. "OK, Logan-sometimes-Lyse, I'm Neil."

Neil O'Reilly, eh? So that's who I've been talking to the whole time. It's amazing how many times I have actually blocked out their names at the family meetings. Didn't even bother to look at their clothing, let alone faces and hair color or even size.

It was quiet as we got out of the slow elevator. The floor was engulfed in white, fluffy carpeting much like the one in the elevator. The walls were a stained and glossed redwood. "This is where my twin Finn and I have our room," he said, pointing to the fourth room on the left. "You'll be staying one room down across from us. My sisters Skye and Lesley live up here, too, but they're both in college."

"Oh," I said, but then the line 'my twin Finn' was repeated in my head four times (not because it rhymes, but because I'm just slow like that) before I remembered what he had said. "Oh! You have a _twin_?"

There you go, wannabe-blondie, good job. Neil looked at me. "Yeah. Why? That strange?" I shook my head vigorously, embarrassed. Since I came here, I haven't had as many sinister thoughts. Maybe being away from my idiotic parents is good for me? Hell, it probably always has been. I just don't pay attention.

"Here," Neil said, opening the room's door. The room was large with two yellow twin beds. The walls were a light pink, as was the carpet.

"Pink lemonade," I said.

Neil looked at me like I was Else. "What?"

"Looks like pink lemonade in here," I said, wondering if I would start to have those dreams where I'm suffocated by teddy bears that are addicted to pink lemonade like a moth to a light, or my parents to money . . . .

Neil laughed, "Never thought about it. You like it?"

I looked around the room, said: "The room or the drink?"

"Both."

I honestly don't like either—or, I hadn't tried to drink pink lemonade because it was, well, pink. "Love 'em both."

"Frae whit I've heard, she hates baith," said a voice from the doorway. "Dornt blam th' quinie, thocht. Eh'd crack if Ah hud tae bide haur."

"Eh? But she said 'at she liked it, divit," Neil responded, frowning at what I assumed to be his twin. They both looked the same. Mirrors, of course.

"Yoo're th' divit, divit," Finn said, coming into the room all the way. He walked over to me and pointed at, well, me. No, it was the chicken to the left (the song echoing in my head). Just joking. "If ye didne pressure th' quinie, mebbe she'd hae tauld ye th' truth. Ah cannae believe 'at Ah caa a gimp loch ye mah brither, lit aloyn mah twin!"

I couldn't understand much, but I think that Finn just called Neil a gimp.

"Ah, hey, guys. Mercy," I said, giving up. I got their attention mostly with my waving arms, but I think they heard me.

"Huh?" Finn and Neil said at the same time. That's creepy. Like that La Pirrilla commercial thing on the radio.

"Uhm, yeah. Can't speak . . . eh . . . Scottish?" I said/asked. Now _I_ feel like a gimp. Not that that's a bad thing . . . it's just, I don't know . . . .

"Oh, right, right, right."

"Shut up, Finn."

"You first, Neil."

"Idiot!"

"Retard!"

OK, so far, I gather that: A) Idiot probably is that 'divit' word; B) Retard is probably the 'gimp' one; and C) My life went down the tubes again. At least I won't be bored.

"OK, fellas! Shut it!" I screamed.

They stared at me. I got their attention. The way things are going now, it probably won't last very long. Wait, now I need something to say. Oh! Got it!

"What's quinie?" They stared. I stared back.

"Girl," Finn said.

"Huh?" I asked, wondering if that meant the word, or me. If he meant me, then we'd just have to give him the world's highest rank in the Inspector business.

"The word, it means girl," Neil said. So Finn's no Clouseau.

"Oh." Awkward silence. My stomach growled.

"Hungry?" Finn asked, smiling dangerously.

I smiled. "Yeah, my parents don't believe in breakfast." Finn started to lead my out of the room at a sprint. We were right next to the elevator, but he turned a sharp left, then stopped, and I fell into his back, and Neil into mine.

There was a group 'ouch.' Actually, what I thought would actually be a wall, which we all would have actually fallen into, was actually a tiny gap in the actual wall.

"What's this?" I asked, quite loudly, apparently, because they both shushed me like I was an annoying baby. I don't know. Maybe I am.

"What's this?" I repeated in a softer voice. This time, my question wasn't answered with a rude 'shh!' but with a question.

"You mean," Finn started, whispering.

"What _isn't_ this?" Neil finished for Finn. Ok, they would _have_ to stop doing that some time or another. Either that or I'd make them. Wee jimmies.

"Oh, God!" I had just said something my _grandma_ says to my little boy cousins!

There was a tap on each of my shoulders. "Huh?" I asked, looking at them both somehow.

"That's what we should be asking _you_," Finn laughed.

"Gone crazy, Ace?" Neil asked, laughing with his annoying brother.

"Ace?" I asked, wondering if that was a bad thing.

"Yeah, you slammed right into Finn's back. Great aim—an 'ace' job," Neil explained. Yep, it was bad. Loony. A mockery, even. Or . . . a complement? In a weird sort of way?

"And that caused Neil to slam right into you, too!" Finn exclaimed. It was hard to think that the entire time we had been whispering. I gave up—if they were going to call me that the whole time, it'd be a hell of a lot better than 'Lyse.'

"Never mind," I said, shaking my head. "Just tell me why we're looking at a crack in the wall."

The boys stared at me incredulously.

"Heh, I give," I said, frowning. "What's with it?"

"That's not a crack in the wall," Finn said.

Neil spoke up: "Yeah, besides; it's at least a foot!"

"You see, we just walk right through it and . . ." Finn already started to walk. I followed because it seemed to be the right thing to do, and Neil followed me. We walked through the largest small place I've ever been into, and right into a room. It was small, about the size of my room (or old room), and smelled faintly of sausage. It was all black and grey and white, and I couldn't help but feel a little depressed. That was when I noticed the really, really, really big book in the corner of the room with a window. The funny-yet-slightly-weird part about that was the window portrayed a rainy atmosphere, but it was really sunny outside.

"Umm," I said, unsure of anything at the moment, "Olly olly oxen free."

It was all I could come up with to show my confusion. Unfortunately, I only spread mine to the twins.

* * *

**A/Ns that I left out of the chapter: **

For the clueless - mam is mom and daid is dad.

Sorry for the inconvenience, but 'Else' is pronounced "ell-sie."

This language is mostly something called 'Shelta,' and if that's wrong, blame my mom. She wrote what I wanted her to!

**A/N:**

_**For Future Reference (or just a disclaimer):**_ We own no Bleach or Naruto _anything_. Meh.


	2. Bananas

_**Two Guys in Kilts**_

-Chapter 2-

"Bananas"

_By_: **Pluviophobian Night Rain** (**PNR**)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own either _Naruto_ or _Bleach_.

And yes, Toushirou is very OOC right here. But rest assured, he _will_ be back to his regular indifferent self in no time xD

* * *

He didn't yell, scream, nothing. He couldn't bring himself to do so. He just . . . couldn't. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing it was painful, of knowing that Naruto had another weakness. 

"Come on," a voice taunted from underneath him. Naruto had been raised into the air so that the Kyuubi could be taken from him—and so that the Akatsuki could laugh as the limp body would plummet to the ground—the same body that had caused them so much trouble. The body that had personally killed four of their members. The same limp body that had mocked them and ordered others to kill more of their members. This body had, in total, caused six of them to die before their eyes.

The Akatsuki was not used to fleeing a battle, losing a battle, or even calling upon new members to replace the idiots that were lost. They had lost all sense of humor—minus Tobi, but he was an exception.

"Why don't you yell? Scream? Something so we know that you're in pain." The voice was bloodthirsty. Naruto, in his hysteria, somehow managed to understand that the voice belonged to Itachi. But, hadn't Sasuke killed him off, afterwards sacrificing himself for Konoha? Because of the raid?

"Yeah, Itachi," Tobi said, laughing. "It would be more pleasant if he did scream, or something."

The pain was nearly intolerable. He accepted his fate. Naruto couldn't help but start to cry as the fox was sucked out of his body. He lost. Konoha would have to live without him. And he was about to become . . . .

"Job's done," Tobi said enthusiastically.

* * *

Hinamori gasped. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up straight, staring into her eyes. 

"What?" he asked, his eyebrow raised higher than Hinamori thought possible.

"Um," Hinamori blushed. Perhaps she should explain why his head was in her lap? "Hi." Naruto looked down at his clothing, some ratty looking piece of material that seemed to have been some sort of dirt rag.

"What am I wearing?" He looked around. "Actually, where am I?" Hinamori was afraid that he was going to ask this. Most people freak out when they're told that they had died, and she still remembered when Shiro-chan had told her. She did not take it very well, and doubted that he would. She decided to change the subject.

"I'm Momo Hinamori. Who are you?" she asked politely. She should at least know the boy's name, considering he had been unconscious on her lap for half an hour, or so. The boy stood up as she was saying this, surveying his surroundings rather comically.

"Huh? Oh. I'm Uzumaki Naruto . . ." he answered, holding his hand for Hinamori to take. Hinamori did take it and smiled as she got up. Thankfully, the boy seemed to be ADD, or something, so he completely forgot about his earlier question.

"Thank you, Uzumaki-san," Hinamori said, again being too polite for her own good.

"Hey, what is this place?" Naruto asked, either forgetting his question altogether or repeating it. Hinamori guessed that she couldn't stall any longer.

"This is Soul Society . . ." she looked him in the eyes, frowning. "I'm sorry, but you've died!" she said quickly. Naruto sighed.

"Thought so," he said carelessly. "So, this place is like heaven, right, Momo-chan?" Hinamori was surprised that he called her that.

"Um, no, not really. Look, it's hard to explain, and I think my friend can tell you better than I!" Hinamori squeaked. She grabbed his hand and, in her rush, knocked Naruto flat on his face. Naruto got up after Hinamori released his wrist while she apologized profusely.

"'S ok," Naruto said, wiping the dirt on his face off. "Really, though, I'm ok," Naruto added when he saw the girl's worried face.

"I'm sorry," she said again, defeated. She let out an exasperated sigh, wondering how she could feel so retarded and foolish.

"I'm used to falling on my face," Naruto laughed, getting up fully while rubbing his nose. "Though, the nosedive could use some work." Hinamori laughed with him as she led him more calmly away from the place. They were about halfway to their destination when Hinamori stopped, confusion clearly written on her face.

"Shiro-chan, what are you _doing_ here? I thought you were . . ." her voice drifted away as she realized that Hitsugaya and another boy were fighting. Toushirou seemed to be winning.

"Stop!" a girl in the back kept yelling, stomping her foot on the ground impatiently. "I said STOP, dammit!" she screeched. Suddenly, she yanked a rock from the ground and aimed. "One more chance, bastard!" she warned. "Get away from my relative!" When neither boy let up, the girl smirked and threw it. It landed on Toushirou's shoulder. His head snapped towards her and he frowned even deeper.

"I told you to shut up, bitch. You're _relative_ was buggin' the shit outta me!"

"And I told you," the redheaded boy said, "to leave her out of this! Now, answer me this: where the _hell_ are we?"

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!" the girl squeaked, she was yelling so loudly. "Let go of the fucking boy, Hamano, before I kill you both!" the girl said, reverting back to English. Naruto had thought they spoke with a funny accent.

"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP BEFORE I MAKE YOU!" the other boy said in his funny Japanese. "Let's just friggin talk this out so my brother doesn't have his ass handed to him. Again."

* * *

They were all glaring at each other, minus Naruto and Hinamori, but they had finally explained everything. 

"So, what do we eat 'round here?" the girl, introduced as Sayuri, said grumpily.

"The food that you threw at us after we told you that you're dead."

"Toushirou, shut up."

"Toushirou, Sayuri, shut up before I get pissed again."

"Hamano, you can't tell Toushirou and me what to do!"

"I think I can!"

The other twin, Akira, stopped glaring and crawled to the other side of the hut, towards Naruto and Hinamori.

"Sorry," he said after a few seconds of staring. "It's just so hard to understand all of this. Plus, we're not even Japanese, which the majority here seems to be."

"How do you speak it, then?" Naruto asked, tilting his blond head stupidly.

"Dunno," Akira laughed, reverting back to his English. "Sorry, I mean I don't know," he said in Japanese. "It's hard to realize what language I'm speaking in." Akira scratched the back of his head. He closed his eyes, sighing, and then opened them. He looked at the roof.

Akira finally said what Naruto had been trying to ask for a while. "You sure this place is safe? And this hut?"

Hinamori looked down at the dirt floor. "No," she said, looking up at them, "nowhere's safe." Akira and Naruto stared at Hinamori, who had a forlorn look upon her face. She looked worried at the same time. They knew that she didn't know what to do. They didn't either, seeing as though they were newbies to all things Soul Society.

Naruto thought of something, however off topic it may be. "Wait, if you're American or English or whatever that is, and that's not Japanese, then why are your names Japanese? Like, you're Kazuma Akira and Hamano, while your relative is Nakanishi Sayuri . . ." Akira looked over towards Naruto, his eyes clouded.

* * *

_(Logan's POV)_

_I couldn't believe that there was yet another elevator in this place. They said that their parents didn't know about this place and I wasn't supposed to tell anybody, but I mean—come on!_

"_You go into the kitchen this way?" I asked them with my hands on my hips. "Why?" I asked once they nodded._

"_Well, Bonnie doesn't like anyone to have food other than the stuff during the regular three meals. That's not enough for anyone," the girl in the back explained._

"_Who are you again?" I asked, exasperated. There were way too many people in this house!_

_The redhead sighed. "I'm Rory McCree. You're that Logan girl, right?" I nodded. "Ah, Mad's comin'."_

_I looked at her, confused, but then all of a sudden a man popped in out of nowhere in a burst of circling wind. "Oi. What's up?"_

_My jaw dropped. My parents did mention, rather slyly, that we had magic in the family, but I didn't believe it. Never believed it. Until now . . ._

"_Got a mission fer ya." The old man said, smiling through his long beard and mustache. I cringed._

"_Um, question," I said, wondering what the hell was going on. A mission? Another mission? More than one? About what?_

"_Oh, it's Logan! Hola, Logan! I know you're not Spanish, but I like to speak it." That man was a loon._

"_Yeah, yeah, que pasa and all, but what the hell's going on around here? The window . . . the book . . . the room . . . . I don't get it!" I said, my hands flailing around everywhere._

_The man kept talking like he had heard me, but he just wasn't going to listen. Which was true. "So, on a different note, you're all going to die!" There was silence._

_Finn and Neil broke it. "Again?"_

"_Yes again, and on an unusual note, Logan here is going to replace Rory. Now, Rory's going to be your backup. If you're dead again or otherwise, I'll send her. Actually, she's going any time she feels like. She's already a shinigami there, so it should be no problem for her."_

"_A shiny-what-now?" Neil, Finn, and I asked at once. Thank God Almighty that I'm not the only one here who's lost. At least 3/5 are lost . . ._

"_Now, here's the mission—die. Become a shinigami. Become a high rank; as high as you can go while trying harder than your best. Then, I'll tell you what to do after that." Insanity left the kitchen when the man left, and even more so when Rory left without answering our questions._

_Wait—we had to _die_? That was, well . . . for lack of a better word (or phrase), bananas!_

* * *

(Regular POV) 

"I don't understand . . . . Who's Rory again?"

"Rory's this Irish girl that my parents let stay at our house. Actually, I guess she's a woman in spirit, at least . . . but she looks like a girl here!" Akira explained.

"Oh, so Akira, Hamano, and Sayuri are all codenames, or something?" Hinamori asked, staring at the boy intently. Akira fidgeted under her gaze.

"Could you not look so serious? I mean, though we're dead, it's happened before. Mad always cures us or something. We're always alive when we get back to the real world," Akira said, laughing.

"Oi, Akira!" Naruto said, getting up from his current laying position. He brushed the dirt from his pants. "We'd better get you back to being a human, no matter what! Hinamori already explained that since we're all hungry, we could all become shinigami . . . and that faster you're a shinigami, the faster you can get out of this place!" Akira stared. This would have been comical to Hamano and Sayuri, had they not been arguing with Toushirou all of his explanation. He just wasn't the serious kind. "OK, but if we meet any crackpots, I'm out."

At that moment, Hamano was sent flying over towards the small group. Hinamori gasped. "Toushirou!"

Toushirou, however, looked just as surprised as the rest. "It wasn't me! That girl," he pointed towards Sayuri, "just decided to switch sides!"

Sayuri puffed out air. "So what? I don't like being on the losing side." Akira groaned as he helped Hamano to his feet. "Neil, you gotta stop digging your own grave."

"Shaddap, Finn," Hamano snapped at his twin.

Sayuri was lost. "OK, so wait. We spilled the beans already? Geez, traitor." She pouted, feeling more like when she was three than fourteen.

"Yeah, you mean _I_ spilled the beans already," Akira corrected. "And besides, e-su, you're the one who changed 'sides.'"

"Well, if _I_ were you, _I_ wouldn't brag that it was just me and not the whole team."

"Shut up, Sayuri."

"I'm hungry," Sayuri complained, changing the subject. Naruto agreed, his stomach growling loudly. Sayuri and Naruto, after being told to shut up four times, decided to leave the place in search of food. They looked at the chaos on the streets and decided to stay near the shadows. Hitsugaya was the only one who noticed their departure.

* * *

They looked all around the place, lost. 

"Where are we?" Sayuri asked, sitting down after making sure her red small orchid print, short sleeved kimono, a giant orchid stitched on her left sleeve, wasn't going to get that dirty.

"Hey, why did you get good clothing?" Naruto asked after a while, looking down at his faded yutaka-like cloth. The wind picked up, blowing around the dirt and grime, plus some garbage, around in circular patterns.

"I dunno. Cuz I'm pretty?" Sayuri joked, sticking her tongue at her new friend. "If it helps, my sandals are dirty." She carefully maneuvered herself so that one of her shoes was in Naruto's face

"It doesn't. I have no shoes," Naruto pointed out, pouting, crossing his arms, and muttering, "Not fair . . ."

* * *

A woman and a man were walking down the streets casually, surveying the people that passed them. 

The strawberry blonde woman looked sidelong at the white haired man. "Which one is it, Gin?"

"They're many of 'em, Matsumoto," the man said, smiling eerily.

"But, I thought Ol' Yama said that it was only one . . ."

The man cut her off. "Nope. I kin tell it's more th'n that—barely. Six, I guess. Maybe more. Kin't 'zactly pinpoint it."

The woman looked at him, but then looked straight, flipping her long hair over her shoulder, showing that she was heavily endowed. Gin didn't even flinch. Matsumoto sighed. Suddenly, though, Gin pointed to the side of the street, in the shadows. There they saw two figures huddled together. They were groaning.

"I'm so hungry," they heard a feminine voice complain. There was a grunt of agreement from the other.

"There two of 'em are," Gin said, satisfied.

Matsumoto walked over to the two and took out a basket of bread from nowhere. "Hi! I'm Gina. Are y'all hungry? Do you want some bread, or something?" She was unaware that her kindness drew unwanted attention to her alias in the streets of chaos.

Gin came over, smiling as always. "I'm Kin. Wut 're yer names?" The auburn haired girl in the red kimono looked up, gasping. The heavily endowed woman was almost directly on top of her. What was worse was that the lady was squatting to make herself more face-to-face, but she was still taller than the sitting girl . . . . It ended up more like face-to-chest, to the girl's dismay.

"Um," the girl said, scooting herself closer to the boy she was with.

"No, we're not hungry, but thanks anyways," the boy said in a rush, wondering if the food was poisoned. His words were in vain as the duo's stomachs growled simultaneously at the smell of fresh bread. They laughed nervously as the boy scooted the girl closer, putting a protective arm around her. She was so frightened that the other two would turn out to be trouble, she started shivering.

"Don't worry," Matsumoto said, sitting down while putting the bread on her kimono—her disguise. 'Kin,' next to 'Gina,' wore a yutaka similar to the blond boy's, only it was actually in one piece with no holes or tears anywhere.

"Hey, get away from them," another voice rang out. Four heads turned towards the voice, and a boy with silver-white hair and sharp, aqua eyes stared back defiantly.

"But we came bearing gifts," Matsumoto/Gina said, smiling pleasantly as she held out the basket as if it were proof. "If you want some, you can have some!" The boy looked at the bread basket hungrily, but he shook his head.

"I'm Gina," Matsumoto said, smiling. "This is Kin," she pointed to Gin, who was standing up. He was actually frowning. Almost. In a few seconds, he was right behind the white-haired boy, pointing a sword at his throat. "Now that you know our names," Matsumoto said, smiling and acting like nothing out of the ordinary was happening, "you will follow us wherever we take you."

"No!" Naruto choked out, grabbing the girl defensively again. Matsumoto frowned.

"Perhaps you do not understand the situation, here. Your little friend," she pointed to the white-haired boy, "will find his head missing if you do not follow my orders." Matsumoto thought that it would have been better coming from Gin's mouth so the kids didn't hate _her_ as much, but she flicked that thought aside. Now was not the time.

"Now what do you say?" Gin asked, smiling again. The boy on the ground silently picked the girl up from the back of the random hut and nodded, looking at the other boy.

Matsumoto looked at them. "Want some bread?" she asked innocently.

* * *

OK, so the whole confusing name thing is actually pretty simple. Here, I'll show you (Japanese: last name first, first name last): 

Nakanishi Sayuri: Logan "Ace/e-su" "Lyse" Miranda Rodal

Kazuma Hamano: Neil Cormic O'Reilly

Kazuma Akira: Finn Daegan O'Reilly

'Kin': Ichimaru Gin (heh, Gin, Kin . . . rhymes . . .)

'Gina': Matsumoto Rangiku

Confused? E-su means ace in Japanese. And yes, Sayuri is portrayed as weak in this situation. She can be strong . . . when she _wants_. -giggle- -giggle- Who WOULDN'T want someone carrying them because they cared?

Just so it's not so confusing, we refer to Rangiku as Matsumoto because Matsumoto flows and Rangiku . . . doesn't . . . well, at least not for me. The old man is who he is, which you'll later find out. The O'Reilly family is a big bunch of magicians . . . real ones. The father didn't show up because he's on a vacation-I-mean-business trip. Rory is a gigai in the human world. Her gigai, however, is formed to look like a kid, so as to not draw much attention to herself.

To clarify the time skips, this is before _cars_ were invented. During the lives of the rare, just beginning era of the ninja . . . . To make more sense: In Soul Society, it is said time period. Logan's time period is not said era, but 2008. Her group traveled through time to get a head start. The old man really is crazy, eh? If you have anymore questions, feel free to either respond and ask here, or email us.

Author Order: Mellon Head, Neko Uno, La Cheep

Ja ne!

–Neko Uno


	3. Directionally Impaired

_**Two Guys in Kilts**_

–Chapter 3–

"Directionally Impaired"

_By: _**Pluviophobian Night Rain **(**PNR**)

AGAIN: Possible OOC . . . . We didn't know much of what happens during the Academy, so we're just guessing here. We're also making up the teachers so please just bear with us as this story progresses! Reviews will be answered below the chapter! OH! Language warning, too! So there — can't blame us! xD (Thank you so very much, you three wonderful, splendid, cool, awesome, remarkable reviewers!)

* * *

"Where are they?" Hinamori asked for the umpteenth time. "We need to find them! Fast!" She ran her fingers through her hair, messing up the bun it was all pulled up into. She huffed, took it out and put it back into place. Then she repeated the latter. 

"Relax," Akira scolded, trying to hide his unnerved feeling. Despite his words, he was really worried that Naruto, Toushirou, and Sayuri had gotten into trouble. _Deep_ trouble.

"I can't relax! It's been days! Weeks! Years!" Hinamori exclaimed overdramatically. She really had let herself go, as she was now acting like Naruto, which was _very_ uncharacteristic of her. Akira could tell, even though he had only known the two for a couple hours.

"Hours," Akira corrected, rolling his brown eyes. He sighed, crossing his arms, running his hands through his red hair, much like Hinamori's previous actions, scrunching up his nose in thought.

"Hours!"

Akira sighed, looking around the hut. They were never going to be safe here, he could feel it. The only choice was to become shinigami, as planned. That meant going to the academy. And that meant losing their friends, unless they had gone to become Shinigami as well. And knowing Sayuri,

"I know what you're thinking," Hinamori interrupted his thoughts.

"It's because —" Akira tried to explain, only to be cut off.

"I agree." Hinamori's eyes were set; fierce, as were Akira's.

"Okay," Akira said, clapping his hands together. "So, how do we get in?" Hinamori blinked. She was at a loss of words, so she just sighed, shaking her head. Hamano snored. Loudly.

* * *

They looked around the endless buildings in awe. Then, 

"Awww! Can we have that bread, now?" the blond complained, managing to hold his stomach and still keep the girl on his back. She was too exhausted to walk any further, and Gin and Matsumoto were worried if the girl was unconscious. The girl looked so tired, so forlorn, so . . . skinny . . . .

Matsumoto's heart welled. Matsumoto decided that, at that point in time, she would help the girl no matter what. She didn't know what decided that, though. Her mind? No. Heart? Possibly. She just liked small, cute things. And the girl was like a cat, though she had no clue why she thought she looked like that . . . . And she always did want a younger sister! Was that so wrong?

"Are you sure you don't want me to hold her for you?" Matsumoto asked, seeing the blond get weaker with each step. The blond returned the question with a question of his very own.

"Are you sure that kimono doesn't fit your upper story?" Naruto somehow pointed, erm, _up_, smirking. He still managed to keep the girl upright, however, which was completely overlooked by all. The group didn't notice, nor did the boy, that the girl seemed to be grabbed onto him by some mysterious force.

"Humph," Matsumoto frowned at the boy's rudeness. Ordinarily, she would have punched him, or at least kick him, but she didn't for the sake of the girl on his back. Realizing that she didn't know any of their names, and annoyed by the fact that she had to call them 'boy' or 'girl,' she halted the group. The kids blinked and Ichimaru smiled creepily, as always.

"What, _Gina_?" Gin smiled, adding emphasis on the alias.

"Well, I want to ask them their names, is all," Matsumoto stated harmlessly. She turned to the blond boy and asked, "What is your name?"

The boy frowned, hesitated, and then sighed. He couldn't get out of this. It was a miniscule thing for them to ask, and he didn't want Toushirou's throat cut just because of his idiocy. This was likely to happen no matter what he did, but still. "My name is Uzumaki Naruto. She's," he pointed to the girl on his back, "Nakanishi Sayuri."

Matsumoto nodded, waiting for the other boy's name. When it didn't come, she frowned. "Excuse me," she said, somehow managing a polite and dangerous voice at the same time, "but I didn't quite catch your name."

The boy frowned at her, but then sighed just as Naruto had. "I'm Hitsugaya Toushirou."

"Well Hitsugaya, Uzumaki, and Nakanishi — for whatever reason I'm addressing you, as you are unconscious — you're going to the academy! Want some bread?" Matsumoto asked, stuffing the bread into the three's mouths before they got a chance to answer anything. Sayuri's eyes fluttered open briefly before she attacked the bread like a rabid beaver–cat.

* * *

"There'll be five people assigned t'a dorm," the man explained, pointing to a door christened number '307.' "It'll be two sets o' bunk beds 'n' one regular. Ya decide who gets wha' when ya meet ya roommates. Fortunately, ya came two days ahead a' e'ryone else. Ya'll 'ave numbers fa each room, as well as yaselves. Ya may not even use da numbers, but ya'll still be assigned one." The man smiled at them after his mouthful. He then gave them an overly–peppy thumbs up. 

Hinamori smiled and nodded as the twins shouted "Yosh!" a little too enthusiastically (and loudly). Hinamori went red, gasping at their rudeness.

"Guys! G–gomennasai, Arakawa–sensei," she said for the two's loud outburst.

"It's fine. Ya should be a little 'appier, ya know," the black haired man, Arakawa Atsutane, pointed out annoyingly. He pushed his glasses a bit further up his nose, patting her head. "Now, TA DA CAFETERIA!" the man pointed the way, smiled hugely, and finally led them to a large mahogany door. Just then, a woman from the opposite direction was leading four people the opposite way. That was when Hinamori squeaked.

"Shiro–chan!" she squealed, rushing over to the boy and hugging him. Toushirou tried to pull the girl off. He failed miserably. "It's been so long since I last saw you all!"

"Calm down, Hinamori. It's only been about a day," Naruto laughed, pulling Toushirou away from the girl's deadly grasp. Toushirou, blushing slightly, frowned as he dusted off his rags.

"Well, it felt longer," Hinamori said, her cheeks reddening. Hinamori noticed the two older people and bowed. "Sumimasen. I didn't see you there. I'm Momo Hinamori."

Naruto laughed, taking some bread from the basket and handing it to Hinamori. "Don't be so polite, Momo–chan, these people kidnapped us and brought us here, saying that it was all for the shinigami's good — Isn't that what we're supposed to become?" Naruto asked quickly, blinking twice. He supposed he was right, seeing as though everybody was ignoring him, talking to the elder shinigami instead of correcting him. He pouted.

The twins came running up. "Where's Sayuri–chan?" Hamano shouted, frowning. "What did you two bakas do to her?" The woman leading the other group cleared her throat, her very long, very shiny black hair tossed off her shoulder. Her light brown eyes were powerful as she stared the poor male shinigami down.

Arakawa jumped at the gesture and cleared his throat soon after. "'Is is Haruko Idane. She's anotha teacher, s' ya should call her Haruko–sensei." The woman nodded her approval, dusting off her spotless shinigami uniform. Arakawa slouched closer to her as he drooled rather conspicuously.

"Should we merge our two groups, Atsutane–san?" Haruko asked politely. Arakawa blinked, then laughed nervously as he nodded so hard, it looked as if his head would bobble away. The boys stifled their laughs as Hinamori shot an uncharacteristic glare at them.

"Well, we should be getting back to the infirmary where Sayuri is being treated . . ." Matsumoto interrupted, backing off quickly. Her eyes opened as she noticed that Gin had already left. "Well, I should," she corrected herself. "'Bye all!" and she actually disappeared out of sight.

"I thought Matsumoto–fukutaichou was covering as _Gina_," Haruko said, "but she just used her shunpo . . ."

"Aa, ya're right. Wasn't Ichimaru–fukutaichou posin' as a cer'n _Kin_, too?" Arakawa said, pulling a hand through his short hair.

"What the HELL?" Toushirou and Naruto yelled together.

"Shiro–chan, Naruto–kun! Shush!" Hinamori reprimanded, bopping them both lightly upside the head.

While they were busy beating each other up, the two sensei had left without a word. Hinamori and Naruto were the first to notice this, and they ran the way they thought that the teachers had gone while the twins were fighting. It was in the opposite direction. True, they hadn't forgotten about Toushirou, but to be honest, they didn't think that the silver haired midget really cared.

* * *

Hitsugaya sighed as the twins kept calling each other very coarse names. "Guys," he said calmly. 

"You're such a . . ."

"No, teme, you're the . . ."

"Guys." Toushirou raised his voice, exasperated. They kept on with their little name calling game, annoying him almost to his limit. His eye twitched, and he looked as if they were pushing him to the edge. Then, suddenly, his face hardened while still keeping his face neutral. The result: a hard, neutral mask. The twins didn't realize that they were almost six feet under.

"Baka!"

The names just kept getting more third–grade, and Hitsugaya was, well, silently pissed. His mask faltered, letting just enough rage to peak through that would have scared the living daylights out of the two, had they actually been paying attention. He was quickly masked once again, but he was still simmering inside. Being ignored like a little child — _'Children are to be seen and not heard'_ — was not something he took lightly. It was, in fact, a rage very similar to the one he got when a stranger tried to either touch or harm Hinamori a couple months ago . . . . And for a while, the whole bar wouldn't go within twenty feet of Hinamori — twenty–five, in Toushirou's case.

And this anger — it made that look almost insignificant. And almost uncontrollable, like when one loses it over something unimportant for no reason whatsoever. Or at least a reason one could not find without wasting important time.

"GUYS." The two looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"You don't have to yell, ya know," Akira said, sniffing while he turned his head away. His hands were on his hips and, apparently, he was making fun of one of Sayuri's poses from the hut. Hamano hardly stifled a snort with his hands. The twins caught eye contact and started laughing uncontrollably, as if they had just shared a secret joke. One of those _'Oh, you just had to be there'_ kinds.

"Obviously, I do!" Hitsugaya complained, raising his arms above his head to make the point of him being completely annoyed.

"Fine. I know when I'm not wanted," Hamano said, laughing, "But we mean well." Toushirou couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or not. He decided to go with the first. This was to part when the twins had silently pushed him over the edge without their even knowing. Inwardly, he smiled. His plan was just evil enough to cause a _little_ tension within the group.

"They went that way," Toushirou pointed towards the way Hinamori and Naruto went — the wrong way. "You'd better hurry."

They saluted him. "Roger!" and they went without even looking back. They hadn't even

"Those bakas," Toushirou sighed, going the correct way. In a few minutes, he was standing beside Sayuri's bed. She was awake.

"Where're the rest?" she asked, rubbing her stomach. "I'm starving . . . again."

Toushirou's face turned back into his mask. "Well . . . they're all directionally impaired."

And she bought it, much to Toushirou's confused and inner delight.

* * *

Yay to Windlily, who was the first reply! Remember to read below! Oh, and we apologize for the long wait. And sort-of short chapter. Meh. We had, if you had looked on the profile, a busy schedule, and if one was halted, all shall be. It's all or none, really. At least three of us had previous engagements, so all of us were on a short vacation xD 

— La Cheep —

**PNR Authors: Mellon Head, Neko Uno, La Cheep**

**AND WE ARE VERY AWARE THAT "YOU ALL"S CONTRACTION IS NOT "YA'LL," BUT, INDEED, "Y'ALL." We had to make up contractions for Arakawa's speech — a **_**very**_** bad Southern US plus New Yorker(ish) plus British mix, if you will. The contraction "ya'll" is formed because he originally said "ya all," but that didn't flow very well, so we shortened it to "ya'll." Yay. **

— Well, as promised, here are review responses, all three of us responding at one time. Wee (!):

Windlily: Ah yes. We are like that too, sometimes. With the exception of Neko–chan (she never shuts up, but in a _good_ way). By the way, are you British? La Cheep is . . . err . . . was. Erm . . . long story xD Thanks for replying! Cheers!

Hollowheart3: Well, we're sorry, but if you would read all of the chapters, seeing as though we know it was up while you replied, then you might be able to see the _Bleach_ in the second chapter. Thanks for replying, anyways! —

Chibi Toushirou Hitsugaya: Thank you! If you would tell us what was confusing, however, we would be able to clarify xD

And that's all, folks. Behdebehdebehde.


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